Comforting Claudia
by nevermindthebuttocks
Summary: Pete can't stand hearing Claudia cry. Set right after 1x05 when Joshua leaves.


Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of it's characters

Author's Note: I haven't written anything in several years, but I wanted to write something tonight. I hope it makes sense. I'd love to receive some constructive criticism.

It isn't until several days after meeting her that Pete starts to wonder about this girl genius that has apparently moved into the B&B, and thus into his life, for good. She's an interesting kid, he'll give her that. He's only been at the Warehouse a short while, but he hasn't seen anyone rile up Artie so quickly, and he has to admit he kind of enjoys it. They've got a vaguely father-daughter relationship going on, if you turn your head and squint really hard, and he can't help but grin when he notices it.

It's when he catches a glimpse of her face after Joshua leaves that he starts to genuinely feel for the kid, and that's when it hits him that that's exactly what she is: a kid. A kid who's only remaining family just left her in a Bed & Breakfast full of mostly-strangers. She puts on a brave face for the rest of the day, and he thinks all is well until he hears the muffled sobs coming from the direction of her room in the middle of the night. He's not sure what to do; technically they've lived under the same roof for over a week, but he was on a mission for a couple of those days and he's been in entirely separate areas of the warehouse the rest of the time, so he really hasn't seen her all that much, certainly not enough to know if she's the type that would want him to comfort her. He admits to himself that he hasn't actually tried very hard to get to know her; there may even still be a tiny bit of a grudge against her for capturing Artie and electrocuting him.

But as he listens to the quiet sobbing, he starts to wonder, and somehow he starts thinking about his own sister and before he's aware of having moved, he's knocking softly on the door. The muffled sobbing immediately ceases. He knocks again, whispering her name. There's no answer, and after waiting for a while he gives up and goes back to his own room.

He lies down again, and all is silent, but he's fully awake now, wondering about this girl living in the next room. If it were his sister or Myka or even Leena he'd know what to do, but something about this young redhead has stumped him and he feels the need to help her somehow, and he has no idea how to do that. He tries to recall anything about her that might give him a clue to how to help. She seemed to like Artie's cookies, he remembers. There were decidedly fewer oatmeal scotchies leftover since she'd taken up residence in the bedroom next to his, so she must like them. But then, there were decidedly fewer leftovers at all since she'd taken up residence at the B&B. Adding a whole extra person to every meal will do that. Then, unbidden, his brain supplies_, or maybe she's starving_. She is pretty small, even for a teenager. And he has seen her pack away a lot of food at meals. So would cookies comfort her? He sighs.

He's right back where he started and he's frustrated; he knows sleep isn't going to come until he can think of something to do for the young girl whose muffled sobs have started up again, quieter and slower than last time. How would her family comfort her? And then he rolls his eyes. _She has none, Pete, that's why she's crying_. Mentally, he starts counting. She's eighteen, maybe nineteen years old and Joshua had been stuck in inter-dimensional space for twelve, so she was six or seven when it happened. The landlady mentioned foster care, which doesn't actually help him at all since he has no idea how her foster parents would have comforted her. But now something is tickling at the back of his mind, and he recalls something else the landlady said, something about Claudia living there for four years. _But that would mean she'd have been fourteen_. And then suddenly it clicks. The brash attitude, the snark, the immediate cessation of crying when he knocked; he has no idea how to comfort her and she has no idea how to be comforted. She only knows how to be alone, and with that realization Pete feels his own eyes prick with tears.

It's been a hard life for him without his dad. He's seen Myka's pain at the loss of her partner. And he knows he plays the doofus, but even he's smart enough to realize that for he and Myka to be called to fill a role at the warehouse means that Artie must've just lost his previous two agents. They're all dealing with stuff, they've all had hardship and loss, but right now he's a grown man lying in bed crying because he can't even fathom what the teenager next door has been through in her short life. All he knows is his grudge against her is fast being replaced with a something that demands he do anything in his power to comfort the poor girl. It's enough to propel him out of his bed and down the stairs.

When he gets to the kitchen there are still oatmeal scotchies left out on the table, and he puts several onto a plate. He makes tea, some cinnamon flavor that he steals out of Leena's personal cupboard; they each have their own that are supposed to be off-limits to the others, but no one else's has tea and it seems more comforting than milk. Leena will understand. He carries the mug and plate upstairs and knocks again at her door. Again the soft sobs immediately quiet. He knocks again.

"Hey, Claudia? It's Pete," he whispers, "can I come in?" There's no answer, so he balances the plate on top of the mug and tries the door handle. He's surprised to find it unlocked.

She's lying on her bed pretending to sleep, and if he hadn't heard her crying just seconds before, he would believe the lie. He leaves the cookies and tea on the desk just inside the door and begins to leave, but then turns back.

"Listen, Claudia. It must be hard to see Joshua leave like this. I can't even imagine how much it sucks. But we're all here. And, you know, if you ever want to talk or not talk or just hang out or something, my door's always open." He fumbles with the doorknob as he speaks, and she's doing such a good job of feigning sleep that he starts to wonder if she actually _is_ sleeping and he's giving this speech to the air. He bids her, or possibly just the air, goodnight, and retreats back to his bed where sleep finally welcomes him.

The next morning there's an empty mug in the sink when he arrives for breakfast, a plate of crumbs sitting next to it. He sits down for breakfast and their eyes meet, briefly. She looks tired and her eyes are heavy, but her lips quirk into the tiniest of smiles before she glances away from him down to her food, and he feels that same something he felt the night before. It's not quite affection, not yet, but affection will follow, he can tell. He winks at her and passes the syrup.


End file.
